


One Truth, One Lie

by PrimaryScavQueen



Category: 12 Monkeys (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post "Hyena"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7202780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimaryScavQueen/pseuds/PrimaryScavQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deacon returns to the facility and Cassie faces the truth and a lie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>AKA: My theory on where Deacon was during the events of Hyena.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Truth, One Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: Per usual, written quickly and unbeta-ed. I have lots of feels for Deacon and make no apology for it. 
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

Heavy footfalls echoing down the hall give Deacon away before he rounded the corner and entered the planning room. His presence screams two things: power and anger. He’s so very angry. Cassie finds herself on her feet before she realizes it. She studies him, notices his knuckles are busted open, blood and bruises color his hand. Moving to him, she gently takes his hand in hers, studying the damage. He slowly pulls his hand out of her grasp and she looks up at him, eyebrows pulling down in confusion, worry tugging her heart.

“I take it things got a little out of hand during your visit?” She asks softly, her heart pounding as Deacon focuses his sharp gaze on her.

He cups her face with both hands. His rough, calloused fingers gently scratch her face. “There were some that think you have made me soft. Made me weak.” 

Her tongue sneaks out, wets her suddenly dry lips, her heart skipping a beat as she notices his eyes watch every moment. “I take it your fists were involved.” 

Deacon chuckles, a low rumble escaping his throat, sounding much harsher than normal as his hands drop away from her face. “Fists, knives, a bullet or two. They got the message.” 

“Deacon.” Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, guilt lacing his name. It’s another thing she can add to her list of failures, of sins: the West VII doubting their leader, beginning to turn on him, on themselves…her shoulders feel tight with burden.

He steps around her, heading to the table where Cole, Ramse, Jones, and Hannah watch warily, as if they’re expecting the violence to explode from him. Deacon snags one of Jones’ cigarettes from the box on the table and lights it, taking a long drag. Blood trails down his hand and Cassie can’t stop watching the trail of red it leaves in its wake. Unbidden, she can still hear Olivia’s voice echoing in her thoughts, soft and hypnotic, and closes her eyes against it. 

Taking a deep breath, she pushes back hard and buries the memory deep. When she opens them again, Deacon is stubbing out the glowing end in the ashtray and blows out a long, steady, stream of smoke and the tension leaves his tall frame. He wipes his hand on his jeans, smearing the blood, adding one more stain to the denim and she knows he noticed. It makes her want to flinch.

So much has gone wrong. So much has been taken from them all…she’s beginning to suspect that things will only get worse from here. She can’t fix the unrest, but there is one thing she can do. She’s still a damn doctor, she can still heal. She turns and goes to the shelves, grabbing down a med kit. Placing it on the table beside Deacon, she busies herself by carefully cleaning the cuts.

Focusing on the task gives her a reprieve from the stares, from her mind wandering back to Deacon’s words. After she wraps his knuckles with clean gauze, he catches her hand, holds it tight. Cassie meets his eyes and finds them burning, green irises bright with emotions. It’s the one thing he’s never hid from her, never skipped around. He’s been the most honest person she’s known since the day she woke up in 2044.

She drops the bandages carelessly into the kit as Deacon’s arm snakes around her waist and pulls her closer. He touches her face again, those rough fingers trailing down her jaw so tenderly.

“You’ve never made me weak, Cass.” He tells her, his voice gentle but firm, “Not for one second.” Then his mouth is on hers and her body relaxes, lips moving under his. Fear seizes her heart as she realizes the kiss feels different from the others they’ve shared. It feels like a final kiss. Like a good bye.

When she breaks the kiss, she rests her forehead against his. Her breath is shaky, unsteady. Her fingers find his chest, bunch in his shirt front. “Are you leaving?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Not yet.”

“I need you.” 

“You know that’s not true.” There is no venom in his voice, just plain fact and it takes everything in her power not to punch him a little.

“Shut up, Theodore.” She snaps and wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face into his throat. His arms anchor her waist and she closes her eyes. “I can’t lose you.” 

“You won’t.” He promises, kissing the top of her head.

Under her lips, she felt his pulse jump and tears sting her eyes as she knows it’s a lie.


End file.
